


Why Me?

by WrongRemedy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:17:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4054666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrongRemedy/pseuds/WrongRemedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor frequently asks Sansa the same question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Me?

The first time he asked her the question that would go on to become theirs, he was mocking her, and she knew it. 

“Why me?” Sandor wailed, sounding pitiful and plaintive while attempting to mimic Sansa’s own voice. “Why must my life -” and here his voice returned to his usual angry snarl - “be so bloody tragic? The daughter of a lord, the King’s betrothed, the most beautiful girl in all the Seven Kingdoms, feeling sorry for herself because her sister isn’t doing things right.”

Sansa glared at him, wishing he would cease with his cruelty so that she could return to her chambers and forget she’d seen him at all. Luckily for her, he seemed ready to dismiss her.

“Get out of here, little bird. Come find me again when you’ve got more important things to chirp about.”

Sansa huffed an angry breath at the Hound’s retreating back, then turned heel and made her way back into the castle, stomping the whole way back to her rooms. 

That would be the first and last time he asked the question without receiving an answer.

~

The second time it was genuine curiosity, although still covered by a growl. 

“Why me?” He asked, throwing his hands in the air as he paced back and forth in front of her like a caged animal. “Why choose to come crying and confiding in me? To treat me as a friend?” He sneered the last word as if it was something filthy, and Sansa fought the urge to become angry with him in favor of telling him the truth.

“Because,” she said, staring up at him, the fear she used to have for him absent from her eyes for the first time, “You’re the only one who won’t hurt me.”

~

The third time, Sansa knew it wasn’t really directed at her, but she felt the need to answer him nonetheless.

“Why me?!” He yelled, scraping his arm along the table in his chambers, the metal of his armor scraping against the surface as he sent a tray, a pitcher, and two cups flying off the table to the floor. “Why dismiss me from the Kingsguard after all that I’ve done to protect and serve those file, disgusting, filthy creatures the Gods called Lannisters?”

“Sandor,” Sansa stepped forward delicately, gathering the things that he had knocked over and place them carefully back onto the table before turning to face him again. “We both know why.” 

He sat down heavily in a chair and covered his face with his hands.

“Yes, Little Bird, we do,” he answered. “Because their faithful dog finally grew to loyal to another.”

~

The fourth time, Sansa thought she had never seen him look so open, so vulnerable.

“Why me?” He rasped, nuzzling his nose against her cheek, his large, calloused hands wrinkling the fabric of her dress as he hugged her tighter to him. “Why lower yourself to kissing this scarred old dog?”

“Because,” Sansa answered, taking his face in her hands and forcing him to hold her gaze. “They may have thought you were a dog, but I know that you’re the knight that I’ve been dreaming of all this time.”

~

The fifth time came after years of struggling, running, and near-death experiences. After the two of them fighting against the world and not even winning, only just managing to hold on long enough for the world to settle down around them first. 

“Why me?” He asked, fidgeting uncomfortably and pulling on his uncharacteristically nice clothes, trying to force them to fit in a way that he could understand. “Why make me, of all people, a bloody Lord?” 

Finally giving up the fight against all the fabric he was being forced to wear, Sandor gave out a growl and turned to face Sansa, only to find her smiling amusedly at his frustration.  
“Because, dearest,” she began, approaching Sandor to help settle his clothing more properly into place, fixing the areas that he was unable to fix himself, “Queen Danaerys believes you to be worth of the honor, and I happen to agree with her.”

“You know I’ve never wanted any titles,” Sandor muttered, obediently standing still and allowing Sansa to finish with her prodding. “Never wanted to be called Ser or inherit my family’s godsforsaken lands.”

Sansa patted his chest. “I know perfectly well, my love. Which is why the Queen isn’t making you a knight or intending to maintain Clegane Keep as the name of your former lands. You’ll have a whole new set of lands in the North, just adjacent to my own, and you can live out the rest of your days there alone in the cold if you so desire. Never to have to deal with another spoiled Lord or demanding ruler again.”

With that, Sansa turned on her heel and made for the door, only to have Sandor grab her by the arm and spin her back towards him, pulling her close against his chest as he did so. Sansa gasped but wasn’t frightened for a moment. She’d known him for too long now, and she trusted him more than anyone she’d ever known in her life.

“If my lands are adjacent to yours, Little Bird, I certainly won’t be wishing to spend time on my own,” he told her earnestly, and Sansa smiled wide before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him.

~

The final time he asked their question, they both knew he would never need it answered again.

“Why me?” he asked quietly into her ear as he tossed his cloak over her shoulders. “Why choose to take me as your husband?”

The yellow fabric settled into place, the three dogs running across Sansa’s back as it fanned out behind her. Sandor’s hands set to work on the fastening above her heart, and she smiled at his concentration on the task.

Sansa’s eyes drank in the sight of Sandor, finding all the reasons for her happiness contained within the man standing in front of her, taking in this moment of bliss that she once believed she would never be able to experience. 

“Because I love you,” she answered finally, and with their next kiss, Lady Sansa Clegane answered every question her husband had ever needed her to.


End file.
